


Fight Until the End

by Xhat



Category: South Park
Genre: Multi, Reader-Insert, The Stick of Truth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xhat/pseuds/Xhat
Summary: ❝ The stick is held above all things, for it is the most powerful relic of all. To hold it is to become God. ❞An old one-shot series from Quotev - now newly re-written - that revolves around the South Park boys during the Stick of Truth game. All one-shots are reader inserts.-----One-shots will be re-written whenever I have the time -- and there will be a new bonus chapter once everything is said and done!





	1. Be With Me [Clyde Donovan]

Stunned into an unimaginable silence, there you stood, blinking in dismay at what stood just before you. Surrounded by the friends you’d made upon coming to the small mountain town of South Park – Butters, Kenny, Stan and Kyle among them – you gulped rather loudly. Continuing to gaze dead ahead, you stared down the menacing tower the loomed in the skyline above. Masses of evil-looking soldiers had gathered at its base, weapons ready and the gleam in their eyes visible even from this distance.

Before you could even think, a battle-cry filled the air, and the other kids that had amassed around you lurched forward. Caught up in the charge, you started forward as well, keeping your own weapon of choice at hand. Mind running a million miles a minute, you scanned the battling throngs, searching for your dear friend Clyde. He’d been kicked from this grand game not all that long ago by the Grand Wizard himself, but all this time you’d been hoping that Eric’s heart had grown soft and perhaps Clyde would be allowed to play again.

Ah, that didn’t seem to be the case, most unfortunately. You couldn’t seem to spot the familiar brunette anywhere within the crowds. Although you soon launched yourself into a battle with one of the evildoers, your mind wandered elsewhere.

* * *

_Lips pursed, you stared up at the Grand Wizard. After being surrounded and nearly invaded by drow elves that sought the Stick, Kupa Keep had attained victory, and all had been according to plan. You’d kicked their pathetic asses, actually, and had even earned the much appreciated title of Warrior [Your Name]. Ready to step back into the group, you stopped yourself when Clyde exited Eric’s tent. His hand seemed to be shaking – what for?_

_ “It’s gone,” your fellow warrior began, shifting from foot to foot._

_ Eyebrows furrowing, the wizard turning his attention towards Clyde. “What?” he responded, a slight snarl evident in his voice. Uh oh._

_ “The Stick of Truth…” Now Clyde blanched. “The Elves got it.” As the last word left his mouth, Eric lost it, hands flying up into the air and cusses flying from his mouth._

_ “That was your one goddamn job, Clyde! You were supposed to guard the fucking Stick of Truth, and you couldn’t even fucking do that!” Ire focused fully on Clyde, it seemed as if Eric had steam blowing from his ears. “You know what, Clyde? You are hereby banished from Space and Time!” By this time his voice had reached a pitch you thought impossible, and Clyde cowered in his presence._

_ Sucking in a breath, the brunette at least attempted to stand up for himself, even with his nasally voice and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “What? No, you can’t do that!”_

_ Eric scoffed, arms now lowered and crossed. “Oh, I can. You’re lost in Time and Space.”_

_ Puffing up from beside the Grand Wizard, Butters was quick to butt in. “Yeah, go home Clyde!”_

_ Eyes hopping from person to person, Clyde began to back away, readying himself to storm off. As your eyes met, you tossed him a pitiful glance, but didn’t dare to voice your own opinion. You’d be damned if the fatass kicked you out, too. Breaking away from your view, Clyde finally stomped off, shoving other children out of the way on his hurried exit. Geez, Eric was such an asshole._

* * *

Final blow dealt to one of your opponents in a grand arc of your sword, you pressed forward. One kid glanced a blow off of your shield but you sent them reeling, landing a well-timed kick to their shin. In a matter of moments, both of the enemies were downed, and you quickly set to looting their belongings. If there was something on them that would help you later on, you certainly wouldn’t pass it up.

Rising to your full height, stuffing a healing item into your pocket in the meantime, you set to examining your surroundings. The odd scuffle broke out where you were, but most of the forces had moved on, following the ragged path that the new kid had forged. Stepping carefully, you tailed the larger groups, evading as many fights as you could.

At the appearance of a tall, metal gate, you crawled under it as quietly as you could, the dirt stirring beneath your hands. Patting them on your pants, you crept up a level or two until you came across a doorway. Upon hearing some rather confrontational words from beyond the entrance, you made sure to stick to the shadows, afraid to interrupt the conflict that raged across the threshold. Hands gripping the frame, you dared to peak.

There stood Douchebag and Butters, seemingly facing off with… Craig? Craig had turned? Oh, that didn’t bode well – did that mean that others had turned evil, too? After a few more exchanged words, boys launched themselves into a tussle, and you watched on, enraptured. As the battle came to a close, the new kid and Butters reigned victorious, the level 14 thief knocked out cold. Only then did you make yourself known, approaching the two victors from behind.

Thankfully they didn’t startle, in fact, Butters turned with a great grin and a happy wave. “Well gee, it’s nice to see ya, [Your Name]! Wanna join us the rest of the way?”

With a similar smile, you accepted. “Sounds good, Warrior Butters. You guys lead the way.”

Continuing up to the final room of the tower, cutting down whichever foes stood in your way, you always kept out a close eye for any enemies who dared to sneak up from behind. But here, now that you’d reached the final battle, you were much more wary of what was before you. Stan’s dad – Randy, you think his name was – had poised himself just beyond your small group, ranting about something or another. Something about a bomb, and better yet, a bomb shoved up Mr. Slave’s butthole? This was something you weren’t particularly keen on seeing, and so turning away, you went on guard duty as the two heroes ventured deep into the undiscovered depths of Mr. Slave’s ass.

Yuck.

Before the loyal warriors came back from a frankly disgusting adventure, your compatriots began to gather. A few more sets of eyes helped, and not a single enemy dared to mess with the gathering forces. Chest puffed, you made idle talk with your allies until there was a sudden sucking sound and Douchebag and his own companion appeared. After a few more exchanges, Douchebag was dubbed King Douchebag, and with determination you all turned to face what you thought to be the final opponent.

The evil mastermind, the head honcho, the Dark Lord – who could be behind such a grand scheme?

But there, rising from the throne encased in shadow, was one Clyde Donovan. Your first friend, your ally; and though you hadn’t immediately followed after him upon his banishment, those old feelings of affections began to stir. Posturing beneath the crown encircling his head, Clyde stood tall, letting loose a maniacal laugh.

“Fools!” His voice boomed. “You thought you could conquer the Fortress of Darkness?” Clyde took a menacing step forward, and you could feel the other kids around you shift. Unlike them, you weren’t the slightest bit scared. In fact, you hung off of his every word.

Pacing, the boy began towards a bubbling bucket of green slime. Wasn’t that the stuff that had been transforming citizens and creatures alike into zombies? No -- _oh no._

You opened your mouth to shout a warning, but Stan beat you to it. “Clyde, back away from that stuff!” Even being on opposite sides, Stan’s tone carried evident worry. Prepared to intervene, you took a step forward, bolstered at your friend’s exclamation. Clyde seemed to ignore the both of you, but only for a moment or two.

Sneering, Clyde surveyed your forces. “Oh, but I have yet to complete my army. You have come to witness the power of darkness!” Clenching a fist, he thrust it high in defiance. And, as you hadn’t quite expected, his eyes fell upon you; you only. “But before I kill you all, there is one thing that needs my attention--” Now there was a familiar hand extended towards you. “I need someone to help me rule this new world. [Your Name], come be with me -- be a ruler of darkness alongside me.”

There was a hand on your shoulder. Butters, brow furrowed, tried to tug you back. “Don’t do it, [Your Name]! He’s probably just gonna betray you.” However, you broke away from his grip, and from the closeness of your friends. You knew what your choice was going to be, and frankly, you didn’t know why you hadn’t made it sooner.

“Of course, Clyde. I’ll be yours, and yours alone.” The statement rung out loud and clear, and although you tossed an apologetic glance back at your friends, you could feel the mood shift. You’d hear about it later, but you didn’t care.

There, perched upon the arm of Clyde’s throne, you watched as the forces of good battled desperately against Clyde’s resurrected soldiers. His hand rested gingerly on the small of your back, and he grinned up at you every time his warriors dealt a fair blow.

Well, at least you _both_ got kicked off the side of building with your inevitable defeat. You would’ve hated for him to have to endure it alone.


	2. Betrayal At Its Best [Craig Tucker]

Feet skimming the sidewalk as you swung your legs back and forth, you revelled in a quiet sense of calm. Here on this church-front bench, you were enjoying your own company. I mean, you had friends, but they didn’t need to be with every second of the day. Being on your lonesome wasn’t the worst thing in the world. And so, oblivious to the Nazi zombies which moaned and groaned about, you enjoyed the relatively fresh air.

It was free time, after all. Known to everyone else as Mage [Your Name], you were a lone magic-caster -- most of your moments were full of helping the kingdom, so times like this were few and far in between. There was always someone seeking your help.

“[Your Name!]” Ah, speak of the devil. Couldn’t they leave you alone for just another few moments? Tightening your grip on the handle of your weapon, you turned towards where the footfalls seemed to be coming from.

Breathless, your friend Wendy skidded to a stop in front of you. Your eyes followed her as she bent at the waist, trying to catch her breath. Head tilting, you leaned forwards with hands on your knees. “Is something wrong, Wendy? Are the girls all okay?”

Straightening her posture and making herself look somewhat presentable, the black-haired girl nodded. “Not something wrong, per se, but we do need your help. You know that game the boys have been playing?”

Eyebrow cocking, you answered. “Yeah, I’ve played a little bit myself. Why?”

“Well,” she began, hands now planted firmly on her hips. “We joined the kingdom a while ago, too. Stan actually invited the girls and me in, but that’s beside the point. A day or two ago we put our heads together, and have figured out that there have been a ton of battles lately! It was agreed that you’re probably one of the strongest mages around, and we were wondering if you’d be able to fight on our side.”

Smiling, you were quick to nod your head in agreement. Although she was a great friend of yours, you found yourself tip-toeing around her every so often. She took some things rather seriously, and you’d rather not be on her bad side. Making an enemy of Wendy would make you an enemy of all of the girls, and that was certainly a dreaded situation.

“Sure thing, Wendy! I’ll be by HQ in a bit,” you chirped, giving her a formal thumbs-up. Thanking you profusely, she promptly turned tail and began her journey back to headquarters.

Watching her go, the thought of Wendy and Stan as a couple wriggled at the back of your mind. Personally, you thought that they were an insanely cute couple… when they were on, of course. That may work for them, but as you got to your feet and your thoughts followed suit, you couldn’t help but think that kind of relationship would work for you. Regular heartbreak wasn’t your cup of tea. If you had to choose, you wanted to be in love, and not necessarily the ‘let’s kiss and make up every five minutes’ kind.

The chill from the mountain breezed by you, and you hastily stuffed your hands into your jean pockets. Skirting around a few wandering zombies, you were homeward bound, hoping to gather a few supplies from your stash before going to find Wendy.

Much to your chagrin – and lack of watching where you were going – you crashed into someone. Grunting, you tried to regain your balance but failed miserably, slipping backwards onto your butt. Scowling etched onto your face, you glared up at whomever had decided not to avoid your obviously oblivious form. Hadn’t they seen that you weren’t paying attention? “Hey, watch where you’re going, dipshit!” Eyes shining in distaste, you made a show of huffing. It was taking quite the effort for your eyes to adjust, and the person appeared somewhat blurry.

“I think you should be apologizing for bumping into me, actually.” What a nasally, monotone voice… familiar. As your eyes finally adjusted, you recognized the signature blue chullo hat, and the tufts of black hair sticking out from beneath it. Why, if it wasn’t the kid that liked to flip everyone off.

“Craig.”

“[Your Name].”

Ha, the puffball on his hat bobbed as he spoke.

Still expressionless, Craig turned away from you and began to walk away. A cloud of white misting from your now-agape mouth, you watched as the outline of his body slowly grew smaller and smaller. Dick. How nice of him not to help you up.

* * *

Having since sorted out your alliance with the girls, you had set out on a stroll around the neighbourhood, ear-buds perched firmly in your ears. Stepping in tune to the beat of your favourite song, you made a mental note that the Nazi zombies had gotten worse. Oh well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. Stopping for a moment to bop your head and swish your hips, you cast an appreciative glance at the street. You were amazed that none of the idiots in the city had hit any of the zombies yet.

A tap on your shoulder drew you out of your reverie, and upon pulling out on of your ear-buds, you came face-to-face with Craig. Again. At least this time you didn’t fall ass over tea kettle.

Crossing your arms in a display of distaste, you made sure to fix the boy with one of your best glares. “So, Tucker. Are you finally here to apologize for when you knocked me over?” Craig snorted, finding your act hilarious -- on the inside, though.

“But you were the one who bumped into me, [Last Name].” Damn that blank expression of his, not allowing you to see how he was actually feeling. Was he being serious? Sarcastic? You couldn’t tell, and in mock observance you leaned forward to examine him closely.

“Well? Do you need something? You know that I have very important mage things to do.”

“Yeah, I guess I do need something.” His voice didn’t rise from the monotonous tone. “Heard that you formed an alliance with the girls.”

“What’s that to you?”

“Remember those rumours?” His suggestion was met with a puzzled look. Rumours? You didn’t remember any -- oh. _Oh_. “I’d suggest that you rethink that alliance. You wouldn’t want the girls to tell everyone that you’re a pussy.”

“I’m not a pussy.” There was a harshness to your tone, a sharp inclination that was a warning for Craig not to step too much farther. A rare grin broke through his façade.

“Haven’t you ever thought of revenge?”

“Of course I have, but it’s never been the right time. What’re you getting at, Craig?”

There was that grin again. Eyes now scrunched in a mixture of confusion and skepticism, you waved your hand as if to edge Craig on. He couldn’t just leave you hanging like that, especially with something pertaining to revenge. Some would say that revenge was a petty thing, but you thought it was something wonderful.

As Craig started to move, you followed him, eyes trained on him the whole while. “There’s a war brewing, [Your Name], and you’re on the wrong side. The girls, the humans, the elves – they’re all little bitches. They’re not gonna win.” He turned to look at you properly for the first time. “I have a way in. Join me.”

Turning the thought over a few times, mulling it over in silence, it didn’t take all that long for you to reach an ultimatum. Lips pursing, you met Craig’s gaze. “Only if you apologize.”

“…”

“Well?”

“Never.”


	3. Coffee and Creamer [Tweek Tweak]

Head tilted to rest against the window, you idly watched as the trees rolled by, blending into each other as your parent’s car passed them. The quiet chatter of your parents from the front seat didn’t bother you all that much, as you’d fallen into a state of silent contemplation a few minutes ago. When you had all set out from the house, the original plan had been to visit some over-the-top restaurant, but after a short bout of squabbling your parents had decided against it. They weren’t hungry, anyways, and neither were you. It didn’t seem the best idea to waste big money on food you might not even finish. Mind you, your parents were notoriously cheap. Who knew what they had in store?

The passing of a sign reading “South Park” piqued your interest, and shifting in your seat, you attempted to get a better view of the passing scenery. Ah, so this would be where you would be stopping for lunch. You suspected it was still a while until your true destination, and just as the thought passed through your mind, your mom turned around in her seat, trying to grab your attention.

“[Your Name], sweetie,” she cooed, smile crinkling the edges of her eyes. As cheap as they were, you couldn’t deny that your parents were kind at heart. Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you moved away from the window so that you could focus on your mother better. Though agitation clawed at the edges of your sense, you pushed it down, fingers beginning to drum along the side of your thigh. Oblivious to your growing boredom, your mom let out a soft laugh. “We’re almost there, so don’t worry, we’ll be getting some food into us soon. Dad said there was a coffee shop in this little town where we can fill our bellies.”

“A coffee shop?” You arched an eyebrow, some sass slipping through into your tone. “I hope they have something that we can actually eat.”

Then it was your father’s voice that rumbled from the driver’s side. “Not to worry. If they don’t have anything we can just pick up some snacks and stuff at the store.” He spared a glance over his shoulder, amusement clear in his eyes. “When we get to Grandma’s in a couple hours, I wouldn’t want to spoil your supper – you know how much she usually cooks.”

Sighing out from your nose, you propped your chin atop your free hand. “Will do, dad.”

After another ten minutes or so of driving, the humming of the outside wind and your parent’s conversation your only companions, your dad finally slowed the car and pulled it to the side of the road. Shifting it into park, he announced, “We’re here!” Like you hadn't realized that already.

While your mother busied herself with inserting some coins into the parking meter, you felt your feet thump against the pavement, and with a much-needed stretch you groaned. Sunlight, which was no longer filtered through a car window, was a delight in and of itself. Hands lowering to your sides after the satisfying stretch, you squinted up at the coffee shops’ sign, eyes narrowing. So this was the place?

Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse? Man, it sounded like a bunch of stoners run the place. But as your parents started towards the entrance, you in tow, you weren’t about to complain. Your stomach on the other hand, well… it decided now was an appropriate time to announce its hunger. God damn, you were hungry.

Taking your growing appetite into consideration, your mother hung back as your father approached the front counter. Affectionately she nudged your shoulder, smiling all the while. “We’re just going to grab a coffee, your dad and I: I don’t think that he would’ve been able to drive for much longer, seeing as he hasn’t had his caffeine yet today. We’ll grab you a pastry, alright hun?”

“Sounds good to me, Mom,” you murmured, returning the smile. Anything sounded good just about now.

Taking a seat, your parents joining you shortly thereafter, you casually swung your legs back and forth under the table. Eagerly you dove into the muffin that your father had gotten you – chocolate chip, perfect. However, it was gone too soon. Licking your fingers, your eyes flickered up to where Mom and Dad were still nursing their coffees. They were drinking it much too slow, to your chagrin.

Great, you were bored again.

A clattering from the back room, which clearly read ‘Employees Only’, snapped your attention elsewhere. “Mom, Dad, I’m going to explore.” Before they could object, you were up on your feet and pattering over to the set of steel doors. As you approached, there was another bout of clattering, yet somehow louder. Now this was interesting… the man behind the counter wasn’t even acknowledging that there was something – someone – floundering about in his back rooms.

Just as you were about to knock and ask if everything was alright back there, the doors swung upon, and you stumbled backwards, barely avoiding getting smacked in the face. Tumbling out came a blonde-haired boy, about your age, he eyes wide and frantic.

At the same time, you and the boy both opened your mouths to shout a surprised “JESUS CHRIST!”

Bewildered, he ran a hand through his admittedly messy hair. Judgmentally you eyed him up, eyebrows pressed together in confusion. What the hell? Did he have a rat nesting in there somewhere? A bird, maybe?

“S-Sorry,” he manages to spit out an apology, fidgeting on his feet. “Didn’t think there’d be someone there--” The boy fell into a series of twitches, regret displayed clearly on his face. Okay, you were willing to let this one go.

Raising a hand to wave it nonchalantly, you attempted to calm the boy by downplaying your own fright. “No worries, probably just sticking my nose where it shouldn’t be.” You paused for a moment, rolling your shoulders. “But I can tell you that I’m incredibly bored, as you may have already figured out.”

This guy’s eyes seem to be everywhere at once. One minute his eyes are focused on the man behind the counter, and the next on the entrance, before finally settling on you. “I mean,” he starts, now beginning to fidget with his hands. “You can come with me. I’m going over to a friend’s house to play a game, and – GAH – we always need more people to play. W-What’s your name?” Here he extended a hand, though it seemed to shake incessantly. “I’m Tweek.”

Reaching out to shake his hand but for a moment, you were quick to release it, given how jittery Tweek seemed to be. What was he on? “I’m [Your Name].” After introducing yourself, you crossed your arms across your chest, a single finger tapping against your forearm. “You okay, Tweek? Looks like you’re, uh, twitching a bit.”

Tweek mumbles something under his breath so quietly that you couldn’t hear, seemingly disregarding your question. Huh. Before you could prompt him again, the blonde lunges towards you, snatching up your arm and tugging you towards the door. You guessed you were going with him, now. With the hand that wasn’t currently attached to the arm being torn from your socket, you grasped your phone and waved towards your parents. “Mom, Dad, I guess I’m going to hang out with some friends–” This was not the plan. You were supposed to be at Grandma’s in a few hours. “I’ll text you the house address and you can pick me up!”

The surprised faces of your parents disappeared behind the opaque entrance doors, the chime of the bell ringing in your ears. Focusing on the sidewalk before you, moving rapidly to keep pace with Tweek, you jogged just behind him. Slowly the buildings around you transformed from businesses to residential, and after a shortcut, Tweek finally began to slow. None too gently, you tugged your hand back, but a smile still crept its way onto your lips.

Nothing of significance happened until Tweek brought you before the boy that they called the “Grand Wizard”. In your few minutes of being here, you’d heard him being called other things, Cartman and Fatass among them. Those nicknames you chose to ignore, so Grand Wizard it was. The majority of his prattling had gone right over your head, but when he waved his hands right in front of your face, you flinched. He had no patience, it seems.

Scoffing at your ignorance, the Grand Wizard went on, nonetheless. “And so, I now pronounced thee Mage [Your Name]!” Before you had a chance to process his grand proclamation, he had shooed you off, retreating to the makeshift tent they’d built just beyond. So, turning around, you searched for the only kid you knew here, at least somewhat: Tweek.

You found him more so towards the edge of the backyard, perched on a precarious looking stool. And in his hands was a jar of mysterious substance – oh, wait, he was smearing it on his bare torso. War paint? _Nice._

When you plopped down beside him, Tweek greeted you with an incomprehensible jumble of words, though his smile belayed the good-natured meaning of his greeting. You watched intently as he traced whirling lines of black paint along his sides, around his arms – as he went to fill in the empty space, a serious of twitching racked his body. Slipping, he nearly smeared a glob of black across the entirety of his chest, but instead he managed to hit the side of the fence.

You let loose a low laugh, and with gentle hands, you take the pot from his hands. “Here, I got your back,” you chortle, pausing to dip a finger into the paint. Taking your time, and careful to pull away when you feel Tweek beginning to tremor, eventually the dark pattern is completed. Silently you admire the war paint, and in the meanwhile, Tweek flashes you a grin.

“H-How do I look?” The question doesn’t quite catch you off guard, and so you give him a thumbs-up and a toothy grin.

“One more finishing touch, though! Close your eyes, please.” Just as his eyes flutter shut, blonde eyelashes alighting on his cheeks, you swipe a thick streak of paint across his closed eyelids. The last stripe among his assemble, stretching from ear to ear, completed the look. And you loved it.

Now that you’re looking at him so close up, Tweek… is kind of cute.

As Tweek pulls out his phone and begins to ogle at your final addition, you too pull out your phone, checking for messages from your parents. What you see surprises you, to say the least, more than Tweek's war paint ever could.

> _Mom: Hey hun, we’re sorry to spring this on you but…_   
_Mom: While we were waiting for you to finish your little play date, dad and I went looking at houses, and well_   
_Mom: We’re moving to South Park!_

You faintly hear Tweek question you as to what you’re looking at, and the stupid, gleeful grin you shoot him confuses him further. “I’m going to be able to stay and play a while,” you breathed, smile growing as the joy become apparent on Tweek’s face. “We’re moving to South Park!”

There was no doubt that a beautiful relationship would soon bloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one changed a hell of a lot from the original. I looked back and cringed so I thought I ought to change it up a bit, at least so that it made more sense. Hope you've enjoyed!


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